


Growing Pains (The Other Side)

by kikibug13



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Adorable, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gift Fic, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Puberty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikibug13/pseuds/kikibug13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick is having a hard time with the final stretch of growing up. He's not quite a little bird anymore, but he hasn't filled out into being Nightwing yet. In the in-between awkwardness abounds, and sometimes a hand that hurts can also be a hand that heals. (Also teenage hormones make situations seem more dire than they are.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Pains (The Other Side)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [akurou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akurou/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Growing Pains](https://archiveofourown.org/works/709629) by [akurou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akurou/pseuds/akurou). 



> Complement piece to [this fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/709629). Thank you!

Dick had read the booklets that Bruce had given him; he recalled, vaguely, that there had been some discussion of puberty even when he was with his original family. Alfred had even talked about it with him. 

It did nothing to prepare him for the sensation of being a stranger inside his own skin. 

The feeling was _weird_ , and it was alien, and it was not either in a fun way. 

His body was shaped all wrong. His equilibrium was iffy, his limbs downright misbehaved, even his voice sounded unknown to his ears. He started noticing some things more and controlling some things, especially about himself, less. 

But Dick Grayson, the last of the Flying Grayson, was stubborn (they all had been). He would not just sit down and give in to it. He pushed and pushed himself, until his new, disobedient limbs were trembling with the strain, then he rested briefly, no more than was necessary to catch his breath, then returned to it. _Do it better_. The words echoed hollow when he could barely do it _at all_ , let alone well, but he kept on trying. 

It was only getting worse. And that was not something that he could accept. He got anxious. He got worried, no, more worried. He combated those the way he always did. Boldness. Cheeky, absurd efforts to get it all right. 

Especially where his boyfriend was watching. 

Dick's arms were screaming in protest before he'd even fully hand-walked out the door. He kept at it, because that was what he did, almost more than saving people or anything else. Keep moving against the pain. Embrace it and use the momentum. 

Today? He overcompensated. His right arm twinged hard, he shifted his weight a little too soon, and- he was tumbling in a heap on the floor.

His heart downright _stopped_.

Wally laughed. Quick, and muffled, but Dick glared from behind the glasses, anyway. He didn't _get_ what kind of disaster this was. For them. ( _No. For me._ ) Belatedly, his body decided to cooperate, and he managed to get his feet under him and bolt with almost his normal ease. It brought him no joy.

Because if Dick couldn't do what he was doing, that was it. The end. No more Robin. No more team. No more missions, no more lives saved, no more Bruce's trust, no more being needed by anybody. Man, would Bruce put him out of the Manor? He would certainly have to give up the team's HQ... 

And maybe his boyfriend. Because why would Wally want to date a nobody? Dick had barely been anything beyond that in the first place, baseline human among metas. Then him and Artemis. And sort-of Roy. They had to be better than what anyone would expect of them. They had to find a way to go toe-to-toe with Big Bads, shoulder-to-shoulder with people faster and stronger and _better_ than them, than him, implacably, and not lag behind, not even a tiny little bit. 

Now, Dick Grayson seemed incapable of doing that. In fact, he seemed incapable of doing even simple crap that he'd managed since before he could talk in complete sentences, and this... this wan unacceptable. 

Forget about being booted out of everything he had, out of the only life he knew, anymore. What if he did something like that failed gig out on a mission and _somebody died_?

He did not belong with the Team, anymore. He did not belong with Batman. The thought constricted around his throat, deep into his chest, and he could barely breathe. 

Wally's presence was there, all of a sudden. Warm and close, and Dick stiffened, trying not to cry ~~again~~ ~~more~~ , but then he leaned into it. This might be the last chance he had to be held like this, after all. Couldn't let it go to waste. 

For a little while, he tried to just - go back. Become the way he had been, small and _right_. The way he should be. The way Wally wanted him, too, right? Though that last part was difficult to hold on to when the ginger was himself hugging him. 

_"Hey…" Wally finally murmured softly, resting his forehead against the back of Dick’s head. "I'm sorry about that, okay…?"_

Sorry about-- what, laughing? "S'fi-" Dick's voice cracked, between low and high, between helpless, mirthless laughter and tears. It was fine, at least as being offended by Wally's reaction went. He tried to say it again, but it also failed, coming out as a small sound where he didn't even recognize himself. 

And then. Then Wally. " _Dick, c’mon… This’ll pass and you'll be bouncing off the walls in no time. Just takes some getting used to-_ " Dick stilled, blinking, and the suddenness of the words spilled the tears out of his eyes all over again. The promise. The hope. This feeling would pass. It would be all right, just a phase. It even clicked with what he'd read, and Wally - Wally wouldn't lie to him. (Wally wasn't, at least not yet, rejecting him.) 

It was still not easy to stop arguing. Well, not until Wally's lips were pressed to his, and Dick kissed back a little. Not much, but he kept the contact going steady until he needed air. Then his glasses were gone, but, more than that, so were the walls he'd been putting up. 

" _I won't let that happen, okay? Neither will the rest of the team,_ ” the ginger's words went on, and all Dick could was feel - ashamed, for his moment of weakness. 

"Hey, when did you get so wise, huh?" 

It was a little later, and Dick hadn't really moved from where he'd burrowed. But he had to ask. 

"I survived puberty. You know, the one we were just talking about..." 

Dick found himself choking up or sobbing up a cough-like laugh. "Oh, great, mock the fallen..." 

"That was your own fault--" 

"I know." 

"But that's okay. I've got you, anyway." 

Dick couldn't even make his chest work, for a little while after that. Then he nodded, drawing in a shaky breath, and curled in tighter. But only closer. 

_We're a team,_ the words tried, and failed, to settle in his mind restfully. It didn't work out. It kept churning and boiling and hurting. 

But Wally _had_ made it better. That was enough, for now. 


End file.
